Holding Back the Walls of Water
by PhoenixSongs
Summary: As the dam is about to explode Rogue takes Jean's place, with not all that much reason to live she carries the weight of so many lives on her shoulders as she fights everything opposing her, including the friends that try to save her. EVERYONES P.O.V
1. Pride, Pain and Power

There was a crack that resounded through the entire valley. The squabbling of the grounded jet stopped as every eye turned toward the bleak crack in the wall of dusty concrete, Storm reacted first - trying still harder to raise the jet from the floor despite the impossibility. There was nothing anyone else could do, just watch the crack grow larger and larger as the heart beats in the cabin seemed to synchronise with terror at the sure doom that was about to befall them.

Bobby clung to Rouge's gloved hand, his piercing blue eyes not meeting her eyes, fixed upon the crack in the dam, Rouge looked down, unable to bare looking at the people in the cabin. Was this her fault? She had not known with any idea how to land the jet, landing heavily she would not be surprised if it was her that had made the plane unable to start. She pulled her hand away from Bobby's scared and guilty and young and stupid. He met her eyes, sorrow so very present there, he forced a smile, then turned back to the dam. Rouge stood, hearing another crack, but this one was drawn out, longer, and with a resounding finality in it. Rouge looked towards the ramp at the back of the plane; Jean was nearing it, her leg trailing in a limp, Rouge was silent as she walked towards her. She knew very well what Jean was planning to do. But Rouge was not about to let her do it. She pulled the creamy glove from her hand and it dropped to the floor, placing her pale hand to the back of Jean Grey's neck.

Jean gasped very quietly as she felt the pull of her life from her, she stumbled as Rouge used her extraordinary power to tear away every memory of her life, her strength, but most importantly; her power. Jean fell back and Rouge caught her, laying her down gently, feeling the flow of a thousand new memories and emotions and inside her head, memories of Scott and The Professor, of Logan and her parents, Logan and even Rouge herself, an entire life forced itself into Rouge's mind as she felt her head throb, but she forced herself forward, ignoring the people behind her, the people she knew and loved and cared for, but, then again, that was why she had to leave them. She left the jet for Bobby, for Logan, The Professor and for Jean and for Scott; People with lives and families and homes, futures and pasts and plans. Jean had been ready to sacrifice herself for them, despite her happy past, her loving fiancee, her great job, her adoring students. What did Rouge have?

And so Rouge walked down the jet's ramp, using the stolen power of telekinesis to keep it shut behind her as she heard someone yell behind her. It sounded like Bobby, Rouge was sad she had not said her goodbyes to him; he would not understand, Logan would be furious, she thought grimly to herself, if there were any chance of her survival he would have yelled and shrieked and acted like the most frustrating father in the universe. But Rouge hoped he would forgive her

The dam had cracked long ago, streams of water leaking from it, pouring out slowly with every massive bang and screech of collapsing concrete and steel, but when the floods of water flew from it; no barriers, and nothing to stop it, it did so with an abrupt silence; like some terrible punishment from a furious god, it raced towards her as she faced it, tonnes and tonnes of liquid that may well have been a great wall of the searing blue. Rouge wondered if she had enough power for this.

She threw her arms in front of her, her mind screaming as she fixed everything she had on keeping it back, pushing the power inside her into a great wall of pure energy. her eyes slammed shut, her brow dripping with sweat, she felt the weight of the water, not on her body, but on her consciousness, feeling every overpowering drop of crystal powering against her. And against that she was nearly sunk.

She heard the professor's voice in her head, telling her, asking her, begging her, to return to the jet, but she could not help from the jet, keeping the water back would not be enough. She could not hold it of enough; she turned her body slightly, one arms still holding the massive wall of ocean she extended another arm towards the stationary jet, stretching another part of her mind to push the plane into the sky; her mind clawed at her skull in agony, begging for any kind of end as the power she threw around her ripped at her mind. The water she held back came closer, the water that seeped through reaching her as it soaked her shoes in ice that she could barely feel. But it did not matter; because the jet was beginning to rise. She felt the night crawler try and teleport towards her but she blocked it, keeping him where he was.

The jet was far above her head now, but she could still here the people inside it yelling at her, and the Professor yelling at her mind as he could feel the pain she was in now.

'Rouge, there are other ways to solve this, you cannot allow yourself to be taken to save us.'

'Watch me, Professor,' she sent him the message almost smiling, very aware of her stubbornness.

'Professor; something is wrong with Jean, there is something inside her, it is called the Phoenix, it's taking her over. She need help.' She used all the energy she could to make it sound urgent, but her strength was waning, her eyelids drooped as she felt drained of everything she had. Tears of pure exhaustion dribbling from her eyes,

'Professor, can you tell the guys a few things for me?' The professor finally ceased his inwards pleas for her attention as she pooled all her remaining strength, the jet would soon be high enough to get away, but she could not resist the urge to say goodbye to the only people that had ever loved her. She wished she could tell each of them individually, but she did not have the power, her brain felt on the urge of desiccation, the great wall of water barley feet from her as she pushed the jet higher and higher, feeling the intense weight of so much on a teenager's shoulders.

'I'm not sorry.' she knew the professor would speak her words, 'Don't blame yourselves, or be sad or… anything,' Tears were flowing like rivers down her cheeks, dripping from her chin, she cried out in agony as she nearly lost her hold on the water and let it encase her and the jet, 'I wanted to say thank you to all; The man that saved my life to many times to count,' To Logan, her permeant saviour and hero always, 'To the professor and the teachers that let me be part of something when no one else would have, and to Bobby,' To Bobby she honestly did not know what to say to him, and what she did want to say to him she did not want anyone else to hear, she drew on that need and projected these thoughts into his mind alone, she heard him beg her to get back on the jet in vain but his mind clogged in shock at her voice in his head,

'Thank you Bobby, you trusted me, always, and i…' Rouge fell to her knees in the effort of everything; of fighting the water and the night crawler who was still persisting, but what hurt more was that she had to say goodbye to Bobby, '…and i loved you for it. Hell; i loved you for everything, and the only thing i regret from today is that i can't be with you anymore.'

Rouge bowed her head.

That was it. Rouge she had gotten the jet away, she had held away the water and she had saved the people she loved. Rouge had said her goodbyes. It was done now. She had though tit would be hard; to let the water go and let it's crushing strength rip her apart, but it wasn't; her mind was worn, tired, she felt old, a thousand years old and dead and as though she just needed an end.

She let go.

**I have no idea why this ended up Rouge/Bobby considering i hate that pairing and i'm a ROGAN supporter forever, but anyways,, **

**REVIEW**

xx


	2. Bobby: The Boyfriend, Ice Hearts

_'Thank you Bobby, you trusted me, always, and i loved you for it. Hell; i loved you for everything, and the only thing i regret from today is that i can't be with you anymore.' _

Rouge had been his first girlfriend. His first kiss. The first girl he had ever imagined bringing home to meet his parents, and the first girl he had imagined being with forever.

She was the first girl he had ever loved.

But now Rouge was gone it was his fault.

Maybe not utterly his fault, he could tell himself when he lay awake at night, sleep refusing to meet him, but she had gone outside for all of them. For him and for logan, for Jean and Storm, for the Professor and for Scott, she had given up her life so that they could live. She had sacrificed her future, maybe a future he could have spent with her, for a jet full of X-Men.

And all he had left was a pair of brown gloves, a stone heart, and her last words ringing in his head. He bowed his head as he sat on the edge of her bed.

He had watched it happen, from so high up he could not see her enough; he could see just chocolate pinpricks that made up her eyes, the smears of white in her clouds of dark hair… He had told her the stripes were a part of her, that they defined who she was and what she had been through, she had smiled, and from then she had stopped crying about how much she hated them. Bobby had smiled too, stroking the delicate wisps of white and he had looked into her warm eyes, and he had felt more at home than he ever had.

But it didn't matter anymore.

Because he had watched from safety as she crumpled to the ground beneath the weight of the water, and he had watched her lower her arms to let the wall of water free, and he had watched her send him one last, sweet smile, peaceful, kind, her chocolate eyes seemed to sparkle even from such a distance, and then he had watched the water incase her, decimating her life, destroying her smile, depriving him of her sparkling eyes, and snatching her life away from her.

Bobby clasped the gloves in his hands, as though by holding them he could hold her again, feel her delicate hands beneath the smooth fabric, holding his hands… thumb wrestling… touching his lips, and he had seen the wistful sadness there.

But no amount of wishful thinking would bring Rouge back.

Bobby sat in her room, the sun creeping through the windows - too bright for such a sad day. Her room was too tidy; it did not look as though anyone had ever lived in it, her neatness was part of her but it made her seem less… real? The clothes handing from her wardrobe were too perfect to look as though she had ever removed them, the desk with it's organised books and files were all at right angles, they did not look as though anyone had ever sat there, this room seemed like a tomb; preserved and cold, no feeling or emotion here, there was no hint of Rouge in this room.

Streams of tears dripped from his eyes as he sat there.

Rouge had never felt as though she belonged; Bobby knew that, she had not belonged at her home, that was why she left it, turning in a life in the south for icy canada, or so she had told him, then she had arrived at a school for the outcasts, but she had still felt like an outcast. Bobby could see that, and it saddened him; he wanted her to feel at home to be happy and carefree, but that was not Rouge. Her mutation was not overly helpful for carelessness; he had felt it's power, the feeling of having everything inside him drawn to his lips and felt it all be about to pull from his lips to her's, that kiss…

Their first kiss should't have been tainted with fear, he was a cautious guy, but he trusted Rouge - evidently more than she trusted herself, she had been terrified, and on guard in that kiss, to terrified for a teenager. A teenager shouldn't have to be afraid of everything she does. it wasn't fair to her.

Bobby had wondered if her mutation was part of the reason she had sacrificed herself; she felt like she didn't matter, that life without her was a good thing, because she hurt so many people without even trying. Maybe she hand't wanted to keep going.

Bobby shook his head, more tears falling down his face; she did matter. She did! How could she not see how much he loved her? How could she take herself away from him? Anger welled inside him, but he wasn't angry at her. He was angry at everything; the dam, the water, Magneto, Stryker, the entire world!

What world would take Rouge away?

What was left in his world without Rouge?

He shut his eyes. Standing up of the bed he lay the gloves down; like some blessed memorial to her, although that wasn't right - she wore gloves because of her mutation, and she hated her mutation, why would she be cursed to be remembered by something she despised? Bobby snatched up the gloves and yanked a drawer open by her bedside, throwing the gloves inside, and was about to slam it shut and storm from the room; unable to stand being in a place with so many memories for much longer, but something caught his eye.

Booby did not know why he lifted the small box from the drawer; it was steel, frosted, with something cold inside, icy to touch but that didn't bother Bobby, the lid was sealed with a pale blue ribbon, tied in a neat bow, Bobby wondered if he should have undone it long after he had, the lid slid of, cold air billowing from inside the small metal box, he peered inside...

And what lay nestled upon a bed of frozen blue silk made his heart ache with pure longing for the old days;

Because what lay in the box was a sculpted rose, made of ice.

The rose he had given to her the day they met.

**Review please,, it will make me update faster,, **

**xx**


	3. Logan: The Protector, Rouge and Marie

_'I wanted to say thank you to all; The man that saved my life to many times to count,' _

That was a joke.

His regret.

His broken promise.

He had sworn to protect her but as he looked back he had usually just been a source of pain. He had stabbed her, for one, very large part of that broken promise, he had heard her gaps for breath and watched as her blood dribbled down his claws, he had seen the fear and pain in her face as he had done it. And it was her guilt of what she had done to him that had driven her away to be captured. And if he had left it to the X-Men they could have protected her rather than be a useless puppet to her captor.

No, it seemed he had caused her nothing but pain.

No one blamed him for any of his stupid, stupid mistakes, no one brought them up when they talked about all the trials that Rouge had been through.

Her name wasn't Rouge.

Every time people spoke of The Rouge's bravery he just felt angry, but his own anger was dampened by guilt and misery as it had been for weeks.

He had wanted to yell and shout and scream and run. But he couldn't.

Because her name wasn't Rouge.

Logan had never called her Rouge. And if he had - never had he really wanted to. Because it wasn't her name. And it wasn't who she was.

Maybe once upon a time she had been Rouge - the girl that people feared, the one no one could touch, the one that was afraid of herself, who never let her guard down. And then he had called her Rouge - she had insisted that was her name, she didn't seem to like the idea of anyone knowing her real name - although she had told it to a stranger… Logan wondered why she wouldn't let her boyfriend, her teachers, her friends, call her by her true name, but had told a random mutant she happened to cross paths with a long time ago.

Maybe she just wanted at least one person not to fear her. Not to fear the Rouge, but to love the Marie she was.

She left the jet as the Rouge. Her last moments she had been The Rouge - but her last second; Wolverine hand't seen, too busy threatening the night crawler with body harm unless he didn't bring her back, no, in her lest seconds she had been Marie - because The Rouge was not her, The Rouge was a teenaged girl with fears and inhibitions and worries and an expression of such loneliness that it broke your heart just to see it, but her very lasts seconds belonged to Marie: Logan hadn't seen and he hated himself for not seeing them, and was glad that he hadn't at the same time.

He hadn't seen. But he had known.

Only Marie - the sweet girl, the kind and brave and loveable girl that only _Marie _was, would have done it.

Because the girl he had met once upon a time in a bar was The Rouge.

The girl he had hugged and wanted to save, the girl he had always loved like an old friend, that was Marie.

And it was because of Marie that he didn't run away like he always did.

Because Marie had changed him.

And he had show people that. Show people what Marie was capable of.

**Maybe a little ramblyy but i always liked that he called her Marie and no one else did,, **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**xx**


	4. Jean: The Saved, Differences

_'Professor; something is wrong with Jean - She needs help.' _

Rogue was different.

That is all Jean ever really took the time to get to know about her.

The fiery headed X-Man looked at the clearly troubled teenage girl that everyone in the mansion feared and loved and admired and pitied, she looked, but did not see.

When Jean Grey looked at Rogue she saw the teenage girl that had turned up on a jet with a grumpy feral in tow and little inclination as to what she was doing there.

She was a good student; Jean knew that at least, although such petty and meaningless knowledge made Jean feel even more useless as she sat cloaked in black in a crowd of mourners.

Wolverine did not wear black, he did not sit in the crowds with the same loud, heartbreaking sobs that a few select students wept or the polite sadness at losing one of their own.

The Wolverine, stood alone, beneath the shade of a tall, tall tree, his battered leather jacket shining slightly in the sun that gleams far too bright and illuminates her gravestone with too much joy. He clutches the dog tags that always belonged to her in his hands, looking as though he may crush them. When she meets his hazel eyes they are hard, like ancient gemstones and when he sees her watching him his glare is turned away from the gravestone to her.

And Jean knows then that Logan wishes it was her.

Perhaps it should hurt.

Considering the many hours he had expended flirting with her, the glare he shoots her every time they meet should be like heartbreak.

But it isn't.

Because she understands.

And because she almost feels the same.

Jean had stood from her seat with an unending certainty that she would not survive the day; that she would never smile or laugh again, hear music lay in Scott's warm arms, and as she had taken the steps towards the sacrifice she was so ready to make she had not wanted to.

She had not wanted to at all.

Jean was happy; more happy than most people.

Especially if those people are mutants.

But Jean led a good life, and with every step that she took towards the ramp she had been angry.

Why should it be her life that had to end?

_Why should her future and her past be eradicated in a death that she was foolish enough to walk to?_

Jean was brave, she was proud of the amount of times she had risked her life for the greater causes, but what she had planned to do wasn't about bravery! the voice in her head had screeched at her, trying to pull her back and being seconds from working.

To Jean bravery was fighting for the people you loved. She wanted to fight, to lift the jet away and fight for her life as well as theirs, but as the ramp came closer and closer it became clearer and clearer that she could not fight for her self. That her life was simply forfeit; moot, that there was no way to save them all and just a second before she had wanted to scream and shout and cry and weep and run from that, the choice was taken from her.

A teenage girl had taken her place.

A teenage girl had matched her bravery on every occasion and now she over came it.

Jean was a fighter.

She believed that a fighter should always fight for herself as well though.

But Rogue;

Rogue was different.

Rogue was by far the braver of the two.

**Sorry it's been so long; i'd like to point out i'm writing this instead of doing my french home work XD**

**FYI - the quote at the start? it's there because Jean knows that even when all was over Rogue was still saving them all. and that even in saving everyone from one danger she took on Jean's problems too and warned the professor, who fixed it and the phoenix is gone now. **

**xx**


	5. John: The Gone, Sparking Interest

I only heard about it through Magneto.

Yeah, i haven't got a clue how he found out about it, but when i heard him telling the Blue Chick about it my heart started thumping harder than it should have…

i found myself crying once, in secret, where no one would hear me, no one would see me, no one would judge me for crying over one of them. But after i did it once, when the real fact overcame me… i found myself making excuses so that i could be alone, not bothering to sit in on Magneto's meeting when he spoke of his whole World-domination-thing or whatever he was planning this time.

I used to think that Magneto and the Brotherhood was where i belonged - around the strong mutants, the ones with the true visions and foresight and power. The ones who weren't afraid of hurting people to get to the bigger picture.

The ones that wouldn't limit my power.

Because back then all i had thought mattered was my power.

I didn't listen through lessons; using my intelligence - which i knew was above average - to trying work out how to make myself stronger.

All i cared about back then was how to make fire.

Was that symbolic? I guess i always knew i was independent; that i never really wanted people around me… That was another reason i joined the Brotherhood, at Xavier's you were never really alone.

Although now i'm here it seems i'm alone whether i want to be or not.

But then again - _God my head hurts i keep undermining every thought i have - _i'm not sure i want to hang around with the old man, even if he is a powerful guy, but i always say the wrong thing and he gives me _that _look. The look that says '_Hey kid, shut up and sit quietly in the corner while the grown ups talk.' _

Yeah - i like being alone, i only had a few friends - Bobby and maybe kitty, but i didn't hang around with them much.

But then there was Rogue.

I didn't class her a friend… because she was so much more and at the same time so much less.

She barley knew me - a product of my not wanting to get close to anyone. But i knew her. I knew the crease of her brows when she got confused, the flashing of her eyes when she was angry. The way she smiled…

I had always liked her smile…

Her soft pink lips curving so deliciously over her pearly teeth - her teeth were a little crooked, not badly so, just… natural. And her incisor's had the strangest pointy edges - i joked once that she was vampire, ready to suck the life out of all of us.

She stopped smiling then.

I hadn't meant to hurt her - I said it without thinking. But her smile dimmed, and her face lost that gorgeous spark i loved so much.

_Idiot. _I cursed myself.

I always said the wrong thing to her.

When i tried to make it better she'd smile but it wouldn't be the same - her eyes wouldn't gleam, her lips would be set in stone as she tried to hideaway.

_what does it matter now? _

The voice in my heard smirked harshly.

_She's dead now. _

_Gone. _

Gone.

Gone…

_Gone and dead and decaying. Never coming back. and even if she did she would never take you. _

And i fell straight back into inventing the spark mechanism that would fit into my palm.

**Do we like? I always loved Pyro 3**

**wow… Rogue has a lot of people in love with her XD**

**i'm a little stuck as to who to do next? or if i should even continue anymore? **

**also - people have said i should think about getting a Beta to cheek with my grammar but if i did it would be probably like another week (the only candidate is always insanely busy) to update because i write - then check - then update in like a few hours,, because i want you guys to have it quicker. **

**What do you think about it? **

**REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW. **

**xx**


	6. Xavier: The Psychic, Solitude and Faith

_'To the professor and the teachers that let me be part of something when no one else would have,'_

Sometimes he almost believes there might be a god.

A deity in the sky, and unbeatable goodness, all knowing, always loving and caring and choosing.

He was a man of science and he knew that well. He knew the structure of an atom and the way a heart pulsed. The way the Earth revolved and the way the sun bestowed life. How a single bacteria could destroy the world and how DNA curled inside the body of each person.

Yes, he believed in what he could see, what was proven.

But he still couldn't help but think there night always be something beyond his own eyes.

But then he sees this…

And he begins to doubt it.

People die all the time, of illness and age, of love and hate, with reason and without, in accident or on purpose.

Xavier knew this all too well, in his long and arduous life he had seen almost as much death as he had life, he had seen the innocent crumble and fall fighting for what they craved or needed, dreamed of or feared.

He had seen life be struck down in it's centre; and that hurt, literally pained him.

But he simply could not stand to see it struck down so close to it's beginning.

Perhaps it was his power, his mutation that made him care so, but Xavier knew that he cared about people because he always had, he hated to see people in pain or sadness, strife or trouble, he would do anything and everything in his path to help the people that needed help.

Even as a child, running free in the gardens around his house, he had comforted the tears of the next door neighbours daughter when she wept over a lost canine companion. His power, knowledge and age had never stopped nor decreased that need to help.

It had only strengthened his desire to help the people that needed help.

And it had been a long time since Professor Xavier had known anyone in need of help more that Rogue.

Granted that Rogue was one of a kind, possessing an inward courage and strength that few could detain nor duplicate, a bravery none could deter, a…

The Professor was at a loss at how to describe this aspect of Rogue well enough.

She was _good. _

While her life could have taken a turn for hatred and death and destruction, choosing Magneto's path of desolate fury, she had refused.

In the face of abuse from the people she loved, her family, her friends, she did what was safer for them, something she had never, ever truly wanted.

She had left. And she had gone alone.

Few realised how little Rogue like solitude, although she was an adept enough actress to play pretend.

But when the school students that were too afraid swept away as she walked down a corridor, Xavier had felt the twinges of familiar regret, self loathing, and; pure and plain, sadness that radiated in her every step.

Yes, maybe once upon a time Xavier had believed in a greater being, watching over the good and innocent and ensuing the safety of the kind.

That minor belief had almost been destroyed when Rogue returned - half dead, to the mansion because of the power that had been forced upon her.

But when the chills of crushing fear had coerced through the young woman, as she walked so calmly to her own demise...

Well that had crushed any belief of any greater plan dead into the earth.

And Xavier would not believe in such nonsense again.

Because there was nothing that could justify the doom of an innocent Rogue.

**complaints? comments? anyone else i can do? **

**Kitty and maybe Cyclops and then i'm afraid i'm done,, :)**

**xx**


	7. Kitty: The Acquaintance, BFF's

It seems unfair, and untrue to say it, but i was The Rogues best friend.

How twisted is that? I knew her only be default - because we shared a room and that made friendly chit chat compulsory.

I have lots of friends, so she was never considered my best friend - i felt bad for her of course, and i didn't hate her, but to me she was just that girl with the white hair and gloves and a mutation that was too much for her to handle.

But she was never just white hair or gloves or a mutation that tore her to pieces.

She was a girl; polite, never scrimping on the cleaning - her side of the room was always pin neat.

Pretty; of course there was a time that would have raised her standing wherever she was, her big brown eyes and soft flowing hair and perfect body. But here it wasn't about beauty, and the Rogue was like a deadly flower; pretty to look at, deadly poison if you went anywhere near.

After a while beauty and novelty wear off.

She was no longer the curio, the mystery, the dark legend that strode through the halls.

Ok, maybe i'm being a little OTT, but if i'm honest - i've never lost anyone. My parents told me to leave but they're still alive, i can still head home and talk to them if they would let me in - not that they'd actually have to open the door that is…

What was Rogue to me? A roommate? An associate? The person whose hospitality i took advantage of?

Because i certainly did the last one a few too many times than was necessary.

Nope. when i thought f Rogue before she was just the girls with a lot of secrets and the boy i wanted. Bobby… Blonde hair, cool blue eyes that looked right into you… And a power that rocked.

And i didn't care that he belonged to Rogue.

All i cared about was how much more sense we made as a couple.

We the golden couple of Xavier's academy, all powerful, beautiful, popular, teen royalty. And the things we could have done… What could Rogue offer a teenage boy?

But then Rogue died and a part of Bobby did too.

Maybe i should have known Rogue more, maybe been kinder, softer, gentler, tried harder.

But what happened happened.

Nothing changes the past.

And The Rouge was never much to me, and, in twenty years time,

i won't remember her.

**… Kitty's a bitch. One chapter left,, unless anyone thinks i should do a Magneto POV? i've thought about it…**


	8. Scott: The Advisor, Ruby Lenses

People thought she gave up.

That she hated who she was but knew she couldn't change it so didn't bother to try.

That wasn't true.

Maybe he was the only one that knew but she had worked until her tears streamed and all to no avail.

_ One night he had woken early and had been unable to return to sleep. _

_Walked downstairs to the deserted hallways, snapped on the light and had almost yelped out loud - losing much of his dignity as a brave and undefeated X-Man - when he saw the silhouette in the grounds outside. _

_Sitting in the lotus position on the dewy grass her eyes were scrunched, her hands fisted, tear tracks swept across her cheeks, her white hair stood out in the darkness, her black clothes just helped her blend into the enriching darkness, _

_'Rogue,' Scott had said quietly, _

_He could see her lips moving slightly - as though she were talking with her self - the voices in her head he assumed - she did not answer, _

_'Rogue,' he spoke louder and shook her shoulder. _

_Always carful to avoid her skin. _

_Her eyes snapped open and focused blearily on him, _

_'What time is it?' her voice was hoarse whisper, she clasped her head her face twisted in pain. _

_'About three in the morning, what are you doing out here?' he held a hand out to gel her up but she ignored it, not moving. _

_'Couldn't sleep, so i came out here to - to get away from Kitty's sleep talking. _

_She lied very well indeed. _

_'Ok, so why were you mediating?' he was honestly confused, _

_'Just thinking through some stuff, it doesn't matter.' _

_'You were trying to control you're power, weren't you?' _

_'Of course not, why would i bother? It's hopeless.' She said defensively, he sat on the grass beside her, his visored eyes looked over the trees that swayed in darkness._

_'__You don't believe that.' _

_'How would you know that?' _

_'Because i used to hate my mutation too.' She said nothing but Scott swore she muttered 'Lier' under her breath. _

_'I can't look at anyone without hurting them. What colour eyes do i have Rogue? What colour eyes do you have? To me they're black, to me everything's a blur of black and red, i hated it for a long time. A really long time. A part of me still does.' _

_'__You can control your power. Maybe it's not perfect but at least you have away to stop your self. Shut your eyes, everyone's safe. Me? I can't do that. I know i can't - So why waste time and energy trying?' _

_She stood up, her words were sharp but not loud or all that angry, just impossibly knowing. _

_Scott stood up, _

_'Yeah, Rogue, your power can hurt people, but everyone can hurt people, non-mutants can hurt people! Car's and knives and guns, bombs and trains and even hands. What you have to accept is that it's a part of you. And you can't give up or else it'll always eat at you.' _

_'Pretend you don't care, that won't hurt anyone. But if you honestly don't give a crap then your just going to hurt the people you do care about. People won't judge you for trying and failing - especially the people at this place, but they might if you never try.' He stood, and turned, hoping that he had managed to help even a little bit, _

_'I will.' _

_The voice behind him said, and when he looked back at her she was still and silent, back in the lotus position._

Did her giving up in the end count as breaking that promise?

** Well this is the end,, my heart is breaking! /3Everyone that has reviewed can have a cyber cookie ^^ i always thought Cyclops was over looked, let's be honest - he and Rogue are similar in their powers. hope you all like it! xx**


	9. Eric: The Enemy, Worse

The Girl was dead.

Magneto muses silently as he sits in his metallic fortress.

Around him he crushes expanses of man-made and near unbreakable metals with a twist of his hands, with a little force of will, with a demand in his metal mind.

She died when the damn collapsed.

Obliterated…

Magneto ponders that for a few moments again.

Saving a jet full of X-Men or so he heard, and he was rarely misinformed.

He wonders if they recovered her body, though he cannot tell where such thoughts come from, why he imagines her crushed and broken with children crying over her, with Xavier's words of wisdom at her funeral, The Wolverine snarling in agony at the sight, The Wolverine…

How would he be feeling about all this?

He knew little of the dynamic between the Feral and the young Mutant, other than his near death in saving her, he wonders if The Girl did it for him, or just because she possessed that unending idealism that most of Xavier's lap dogs seemed to have, and sacrificed her own being for only the benefit of others.

He feels an unprecedented surge of anger; though once again he does not understand it.

When last he saw the girl she had strange streaks of white in her hair, he knows he is probably the cause, the reason behind the vivid strangeness of it, that his attempt - so close and yet so far - atop the statue of liberty may have caused the discolouration, and perhaps he is at fault for the knowledge in her eyes, the defence in her pose, the pain in her words, and the steel in her voice…

Steel…

Magneto - Eric, knows little of today's children.

Of the struggles and strifes of teenagers.

He knows that they will not go through what he has faced in his own adolescence - thus never understanding true pain, true sacrifice, real fear and injustice, they may be mutants, caught in hatred, prejudice, fighting the fight until one or the other is disintegrated,

But he has faced worse.

He is certain of that, as he strokes the faded blue tattoo on his arms.

He will always have faced worse.

Except that maybe - He wonders as he stares around his cavern, his element, his fortress, his safety and his war room,

Maybe she had been through worse as well.

* * *

><p><strong>WELL!<strong>

**It was been - literally - months. and I thought I was done and finished with this but ever since I clicked that little button that said 'FINISHED' I haven't been able to get Magneto's POV outta my head. **

**Finally I gave up, pulled this story outta retirment and VOILA! **

**Please review! **

**xx**


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